


Carry me home (I lost the way)

by woopsforgotadam



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Gen, Longing, Mentions of Blood, Reflection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-14
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-13 04:13:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2136579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woopsforgotadam/pseuds/woopsforgotadam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sansa thinks that her darken hair reflects the true loss of home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carry me home (I lost the way)

As a child, a small little  _stupid_  girl with big dreams, she had dreamed of leaving the boredom of Winterfell in favor of the excitement of the South; never once drinking in the the surreal aura surrounding her home. In fact, she never noticed such a presence that surrounded her with the weirwood trees, so strange looking to some with the appearance of the weeping face with blood looking tears and all. And yet, as she stood at the Vale, so close and so far from home, Sansa felt as if she was now the weeping tree. If she were to cry, there would be no tears, but blood. Blood of those in her family who are now long. It seems to surround her now, the memory of the dead.

The loss of once bright hair had seemed fitting enough, Sansa, or Alayne perhaps, thought since it reflected her more sullen personality. For she no longer sang of knights and ladies, and she was no longer home with the bright leaves of the weirwood tree peeking fro the Godswood. She wasn’t even a Stark at the moment. A bastard with the surname Stone. Perhaps this is what Jon felt like as a Snow. The thought of her bastard brother was pushed aside, because he was at least at the Wall, in the North.

And Alyane Stone didn’t have a bastard brother named Jon Snow. She was the daughter of Petyr Baelish.

Sansa Stark was the one who yearned for home, for Winterfell, for the Weirdwood trees, for just being int he presence of such an ancient place, and the place where she truly belonged, for to once rejoice and praise in her long lost memory of people long past.


End file.
